


takes nine for harmony

by blackmaskfucker (beherrscht)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Creampie, Fuckbuddies, Fuckbuddies To Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Rimming, slut shuake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beherrscht/pseuds/blackmaskfucker
Summary: "Hello, it's nice to work with you. I'll try my best to not fall behind with my trumpet-blowing.""By the way, that's not the only thing he blows well."Akechi chokes on his drink.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 185





	takes nine for harmony

**Author's Note:**

> heavily inspired by [these two](https://twitter.com/rrrrpsak/status/1288742012909268992?s=20) [arts](https://twitter.com/s_696/status/1288051566436429825?s=20)
> 
> sorry mr saito for doing ur beautiful goro dirty like this but also: i want him to suck on something that is not a trumpet. i know nothing about bands. nor instruments. i want nap
> 
> the entire point of this fic was #4 but it multiplied into 9k porn and i don't like it .

**1\. INTRO**

As Akira sits in the judge's seat and watches yet another freshman with a guitar tumble off the stage, he thinks about how he would like to be _literally anywhere else_.

He has thoroughly explained to Sae-san that they don't _need_ a ninth member. For fuck's sake, eight people was already a lot to be consisting a band, and the reason why the university was even lending them a room was because they managed to enter the nationals—before then they were using one of the abandoned building rooftops to practice in. They just work so well because they've gone through so much hardship together, and he couldn't risk their harmony being disrupted by some unknown discord. 

He's been sitting here for a good three hours before something interesting happens. It begins with Sae-san's eyes widening, breath quickening as she hisses out, "oh, for lord's sake, why is _he_ here?"

That makes him interested in the next auditionee— _Akechi Goro_. The name's familiar, but Akira can't quite put a finger on it because there isn't a facial picture attached to the sheet. Or anything, really. Apart from his name and the choice of instrument (which is a _trumpet_ ) the entire application sheet is blank. 

Akira immediately decides that he likes him. 

When Akechi enters the room holding a silver briefcase, the immediate first impression on the man that Akira holds is that he's _pretty_. The student's hazel hair is long enough to come to his shoulders, and dressed in a pair of black slacks and crisp dress shirt. He is about as tall as Akira, although without the heels he seems about an inch smaller. Dressed in a pair of neat slacks and a black wool sweater, and over them is a sleek frock coat. The general aesthetic and the behavior the auditioner holds himself in is very 'prep boy' that Akira almost misses out on the keen set of crimson eyes that pierce through the act intimidatingly behind the fringe. Like Akira. Like all of them, in the Phantom. There's also the fact that he has none of the eager-to-please attitude the freshmen all had bundles of; from his expression, it almost looks like the man doesn't want to _be_ here, as if this whole audition is some waste of time. Just like how Akira thinks.

Akira smashes his hand against the table. The papers flutter at his movement. "I made my choice. You're in."

Akechi sets his briefcase down and sits upon it, his eyebrows raising above his hairline as he blithely stares Akira down. "Hello, my name is Akechi Goro. I play the trumpet, saxophone, a little bit of the guitar if you need that. I can play you anything you want."

 _Will you play **me**?_ Akira waves a hand over the space in front of him. "You don't need to. You're in. Practice at the auditorium every day after 6. Eat dinner beforehand, our practice tends to last a few hours at least. Haru does make snacks to feed an ark, so it's not necessary, though."

Obviously, neither Akechi nor Sae the decision he's making—although Sae is more vehemently against it, while Akechi simply looks abject for being unable to play. Akira rises from his seat—finally, after so many hours, his muscles scream and his joints pop—and yawning, he jumps out of the seats to reach for the exit before Sae can prevent him from fleeing. 

He tosses his flexible body over a high wall as he climbs into the prohibited sector of the university grounds, knowing Sae won't think to follow him over here. Back against the brick barricade he silently waits until a pair of footsteps rescind, then in his glory, takes out his cigarette and bites into the filter.

Being a vocalist and a smoker isn't a good combination, he's been informed a million times, but it's not like he's going to do the bands for a living; the Phantoms have already promised that they'll disband once they win the nationals, Akira's got to graduate and everyone must return to their places in their lives. Like a dream you won't remember when you wake up, a fond memory that you cannot quite recall. That's what will become of the Phantoms, eventually. It's also been why he's been hesitant to add another member into their synchronized harmony: the Phantoms are destined to disappear as of their name, like a mirage in a desert. Yet, as he recalls Akechi looking up at him from the stage, he thinks that one won't be a problem. He knows he'll be acquainted with Akechi for a long, long time.

Akira brings the lighter to his mouth, pressing the flickering fire against the papers. As the The sticky nicotine works itself down Akira's vein in the matter of seconds, and Akira exhales more relaxed compared to a mere breath ago. They'll somehow win the nationals. They always do.

He enjoys his solitary, waiting for time to pass, until a pair of footsteps saunter towards his direction. It's a confident stride to Sae's mechanical, clipped clicks of heels so Akira doesn't think much of it, choosing to concentrate on the smoke instead.

He no longer can when someone snatches the butt away from him, grabbing the filter and pulling it straight out between Akira's teeth. He begrudgingly tips his head up to glower at the intruder—the new member of the Phantoms. Akechi's smile is sickly sweet and clearly fabricated as he introduces himself, "Hello, I'm Akechi Goro. Senior law major."

Akira just raises his eyebrows and plucks the tobacco right between Akechi's fingers. "Alright?"

The smile only twitches in response. "And I still don't know your number."

Without saying anything, he takes a deep inhale of the smoke. Then, detaching his lips from the filter, he lets his face reorganize into a familiar smirk. "I see. How could I say no when a pretty face like you asks?" Keeping his poison safe between his teeth he digs into his bag for a stray pen and paper, scrawling the eight-digit number thoughtlessly and passing it over to Akechi. With a glare Akechi accepts it and shoves into his own pocket after a stray glance.

For the next few minutes, Akechi says nothing. Only looms over Akira wordlessly, the crimson eyes intent enough to bore a hole into a weaker man. Yet Akira has dealt with so much that he only puffs on his cigarette, letting the embers burn out the leaves and drop onto the top of Akechi's soles.

"Want a smoke?" Akira gestures when Akechi still won't leave, when there's only third of the cigarette left. He takes a deep breath, and presses it forward so he can pluck the blunt off his fingers.

"I want a taste alright," then Akechi slams Akira into the wall _hard_ , causing him to drop the blunt in surprise, and kisses him hard on the lips. Akira chokes in surprise for just a second, before kissing back as intently as Akechi is kissing him, all teeth and bruises only. A hungry, devouring kiss, more telling than mere words. Akira hums as Akechi sucks the smoke right from his lungs and takes them, separating once they're finished.

"So you are interested me," Akira muses, moving his feet to crush the ember with his feet. That poison is no longer relevant when he has a better one right in front of him. "I was hoping for it but I didn't know if I'd be lucky enough."

" _Please_ , Kurusu. Like you haven't picked me for my face. You haven't even seen me play and let me in your band," Akechi's glint is predatory.

Akira could explain that it wasn't Akechi's face that enamored him—not to say that Akechi isn't pretty because Akechi is _definitely_ pretty, but Akira has a swarm's worth of eager-to-please girls and boys who clamor for his attention to cherry-pick from—but his behavior. That slight edge of rebellion behind his facade. Being a senior law student yet choosing to join a band. This proposition. All that. Akira's third eye tends to come off creepy and disturbing to people who doesn't know him well, after all.

So instead he winks and drags his eyes down. "So it's mutual. Then why don't we cut to the chase?"

To his surprise, Akechi immediately drops down to his knees, going for Akira's belts. He hungrily pulls the single fabric covering Akira's cock and immediately swallows it to the hilt, gag reflex nowhere to be seen. Akira just keeps his two hands on Akechi's locks, offering the presence but offering no force whatsoever—Akechi clearly knows what he's doing, tongue wiggling and throat squeezing around him tightly .

Akira rocks his hips when Akechi drops down, and their eyes meet as Akechi snaps his head up to look up at Akira. Akechi smiles defiantly around the cock and goes down again, and now given permission, he forces Akechi down even deeper until there would be teeth marks against his pelvis. The pace turns more and more erratic and Akechi stops moving in middle, letting Akira fuck his face to his own accord.

With a wet, talented mouth on him Akira comes, spilling into the wet throat that continues to swallow and take all of the seed. Once he's done, he retrieves his hands from Akechi's head, noticing a few brown locks pulled out between the finger, and hums. "Practice at five today. Don't be late."

Akechi's voice is hoarse he brings himself to full height. "For this, or for _actual_ practice for the band?"

Akira only grins. "Both."

* * *

**2\. VERSE**

Before his first practice and meeting the rest of the Phantoms, he goes to the Frostbucks on campus and orders a triple shot espresso before travelling to the auditorium. It's pretty spacious; definitely too big for an eight person band to be monopolizing, but it's the only place with soundproofing outside of music-major's stuffy tiny rooms. Goro isn't completely privy of school's agenda, but they wouldn't have definitely lent this place to the Phantoms if they hadn't managed to miraculously enter the Nationals. 

This led to Kurusu forcefully having to open an audition, which had been good for _him_ , Goro guesses. 

He's only auditioned for the part because of two reasons: one, it would piss his father off so much that he is choosing to focus on something like this over graduating, two, Kurusu Akira had one hell of a reputation for sex; one that _almost_ matched his own born from spite (once again, to piss off Shido,) and how could he possibly not be curious about a rumor regarding the rock-star? And Kurusu hasn't disappointed—Goro planned to play a little hard to get to have Kurusu lust after him, but it turns out that hadn't even been necessary in the slightest because it's taken barely any suggestion for Kurusu to slam him down to the floor and take his mouth, right there.

As Goro recollects the heavy weight of Kurusu's cock filling his mouth and throat, easily the biggest he's taken, _the girls and the few boys really weren't lying about that_. Goro could get used to getting fucked by something like _that_ on a daily basis. 

He takes another sip of his drink, letting the caffeine do its magic before slipping into the room where the furious conversation instantly dies at his appearance. The corners of his lips turn at the way how all eight members immediately snap towards the doorway and onto him—he's a bit of a dramatic fuck and adores the attention, he can't help himself. With everyone so focused on him, he crosses over to the center of the auditorium with bold steps to stand in front of them, bowing to introduce himself to the others. 

"Hello, it's nice to work with you for the next month for the nationals. My name is Akechi Goro, and I'll try my best to not fall behind you all with my trumpet-blowing."

Kurusu, the cheeky brat, smirks and drags his eyes down to his lips. "By the way, that's not the only thing he blows well."

Akechi chokes on his drink.

Surprisingly, his overt display of sexuality doesn't seem to bother the other bandmates. The others just roll their eyes, and the orange girl merely rolls her eyes and mutters, "Jesus fucking Christ, Joker, it's been a _day_. Can you keep it in your pants?"

"No," Kurusu cheekily bites back. 

"It's a good thing we don't expect better from ya, leader," the orange girl waves him away. "Name's Futaba. Sakura Futaba. I'm Akira's sorta-sister, I guess, and also your mixer, and a tech goddess." Then, immediately, she turns to Kurusu and crosses her arms, "did you even _hear_ the new member play, or did your dick make the choice?"

Before Kurusu can reply, Akechi cuts in, "he has not," eight pair of colorful eyes glare at their leader's direction, "but it's a good thing that one of you know how I can play, hmm? I believe she can vouch for me. Isn't that right, Makoto?"

Niijima Makoto twitches as her name is announced, her hands curling tightly over the drum stick as her face snaps to him. "We haven't seen each other for years, how are you still _this_ provocative?" 

"It's a charming character trait of mine, I believe. Your leader doesn't seem to mind," Goro flicks his head towards Kurusu, who's coughing lightly to start his voice going. 

"Akira won't mind anything as long as he gets laid. It's not the first time his attitude got us in trouble," Niijima bites bitterly—it's difficult to know if her annoyance stems simply from her disgust with Akira's overall slut-like behavior, or if there's actual infatuation involved in the fury—yet after a while, sighs. "Yet of _course_ his intuition doesn't fail him. Akechi's eerily good at everything he does, and music isn't exempt from that. I've seen him play. Skill-wise, he won't fit behind us."

"Yeah, obviously. He's Sae-san's protégé, isn't it?" Kurusu pipes from the back, freed by his sister's badgering. "Your sister would not be happy with anything but exemplary, and I assumed someone who doesn't play guitar and bass would be easier to fit in, since Haru already works as our second guitarist sometimes. I knew what I was doing. He has a wide range of instruments, which means if there are any gaps to be filled, we could slot him right in."

Except when Akechi came in and Kurusu immediately decided to scout him, there was _no way_ he could have possibly known about his affliation with Sae. Also, he only learned that Akechi played other instruments apart from the trumpet when he introduced himself. Yet contradicting Kurusu in these circumstances would be contrary to his goal of becoming the member of the Phantoms, so he says nothing as he sips on his caffeine machine. 

After some furious argument among the Phantoms, they (everyone except Kurusu, who has retreated to a wall to watch Goro with hawklike, predatory eyes) ask if they can hear him play. Having expected a performance, he nods, undoes the latches of his briefcase to retrieve his instrument. Brings it to his lips and gives it a firm blow, making sure the tone is set right. 

There is only one song he can play to show off his full skill, only one song he can play so naturally he doesn't even need to think as the melody takes over his mind and he works on autopilot. _No More What Ifs_ is a song that had been written to be played on the saxophone, but with Goro's sheer adoration to this song he's managed to port it onto every available instrument he can play, including the trumpet. His fingers nimbly dance over the three keys as he keeps up the performance, enjoying how all the Phantoms immediately fall silent in the face of his talent. 

Once he finishes, it's ironically Akira who speaks up. His voice is gentle as he softly lets out, "the song. It's a personal one to you, isn't it? I can hear it from the way you play."

Hearing this song immediately triggers a very fond memory Goro has of his mother, the only one he can recollect. When it had been just the two of them, his mother would often bring him to a jazz club, enthusiastically support his musical endeavors and dreams. "I suppose," he murmurs distantly, and crosses his arms. "Have I proved myself to you all?"

All of them nod, then they toss a look into Joker. It's amazing how a group of eight people can communicate with each other so expeditiously and accurately with only a few silent glances and facial expression; it's obvious that there had been many, many events that made the Phantoms such a unified force, painful memories morphing and eventually becoming the power engine behind their flawless harmony. Akechi feels like he's drowning into the background as they wordlessly reach a single conclusion amongst each other. It's an ugly feeling.

"Right," Kurusu's steps forward to place a hand on Akechi's shoulder, and casually speaks up. "You're going to need a code name."

That is the last thing he's expected to come out of Kurusu's mouth. "Excuse me? A code name for _what?_ "

"Ah. We all have code names here for the sake of tearing down all the honorifics. When you have a month to make a mindblowing performance, we don't have the time to step around with -san and -kun, _especially_ on stage," Akira states resolutely, eyes hardening with determination. Then it all melts away, leaving the tired, loose kid he's seen before. "Kurusu Akira. Leader and the lead vocalist of the Phantoms, original member. Code name's Joker."

Without a beat, the spiky blonde takes over. "Sakamoto Ryuji. Lead guitar. Code name's Skull. I'm not so sure about this whole new member thing, but..." he rubs his hair, then shrugs. "Akira chose you, and I trust his judgement."

"Takamaki Ann. Keyboardist. I'm Panther. I also make sure everyone doesn't wear anything weird on stage. We have reputation, you know," the peppy blonde girl winks in his direction. "If it's anything relevant to fashion, feel free to ask. Also, this is Mona, our mascot," she then raises a black, yowling cat furiously. "He's Akira's, but he stays over at my place half of the time."

"Kitagawa Yusuke. I am responsible for the bass portion. On stage, you may refer to me as Fox," the azure boy bows elegantly, black eyes mysterious and curious. "I am looking forward to how our harmony will change for the better with your inclusion."

"Niijima Makoto. You know about me already, I play the drums," Makoto hums irritatingly, but far softer than before. "You can call me queen. Despite our differences, I hope we can work together. You are a great player, after all."

"Sakura Futaba! I'm the turntablist, but also responsible for everything tech-related. I go by both Navi and Oracle, feel free to call me whatever." She greets, then in a tiny voice that can only be heard by Goro, "if you break Akira's heart, I'll spill your internet search all over the school's online boards."

"Ah, I'm the only one left? Okumura Haru," the shy girl offers, "I play the violin, but I also fill in second guitar in songs that need it. Most of the time, I make sure everyone gets their nutrients and electrolytes between! Have you had your dinner, Akechi-kun?"

"I have, Kurusu-kun told me that practice tends to end late?" He gives a bright smile and flicks a gaze towards the leader, who nods. "If you have something to eat, wouldn't it be good to wait until we're all famished?"

"Akira," Kurusu—Akira—interjects. "Come on, we're now a team—no need for that much formality." He can practically hear the silent _there's also that you sucked my dick, we're past all that, don't you think?_ in his ear.

"Of course, Akira," the name feels odd on his tongue, but he doesn't despise the taste of the words on his tongue. "I must also give my introduction, mustn't I? I am Akechi Goro, and as you've seen, I play the trumpet. My code name... I prefer Crow, I believe."

"Crow, hmm?" Akira rolls the title in his name. "I like it. It fits you in some way I cannot quite understand yet. Has the right amount of rebelliousness."

"Oh, and how do you know about me?" Goro crosses his arms, leaning back and staring right into the grey orbs.

Akira's eyes sparkle brightly at the taunt. "I just _know_."

"Please stop flirting," Futaba groans, and turns to Akira. "Actually, you will only take that as a challenge, I need to distract you. Akira, it's time for us to show our skills to Crow, don't cha think?"

At the mention of music, everyone moves to the stage, taking their spots. Futaba sits down on one of the chairs, signalling Goro to join him, so he does. The moment Akira grabs the microphone, his attitude immediately morphs to a more mature and serious, sharper edges overflowing with charisma. It's clear that Kurusu offers his whole heart to his music, enough that the level of concentration involved in it alters his posture.

Suddenly, he sets it down the microphone, and jumps off the stage. "But first." Akira snatches the half-empty cup of Frostbucks espresso Goro is sipping on, and drops it into the trash can. "Number zero rule of the Phantoms: no Frostbucks coffee allowed in practice room."

"Sorry about that," Futaba stage-whispers at Goro, loud enough for the retreating Kurusu to catch the words. "He's a barista, and he has a vendetta for capitalism. It's a phase he's going through."

Goro's lips twitch up against his insistence to keep it flat. _Revenge for taking your cig, huh?_

"Alright, let's get to practice, we can't lose to our new member, everyone!" Akira—no, _Joker_ now—howls, settling himself comfortably in front of the microphone. "It's _showtime!_ "

* * *

**3\. INTERLUDE**

The month passes fast. Practice is daily, five PM stat, although by the time that Ann and Futaba arrives and they have whatever snack Haru prepared it nears six, lasting for nearly four hours until they burn themselves out. To Akira's surprise, it takes surprisingly little time for Akechi to sync with the team—barely a week—for them to participate in their harmony without any feeling of oddity whatsoever. He may as well have been here since the very beginning, with Mona and Ann and Ryuji for all the listeners may know. With Akechi's involvement, their sounds are stronger than ever; enough for Akira to say that they have the nationals in the bag.

Another addition that changes with Akechi's arrival into their team, Akira has a lot of sex. Lots, lots of sex: so much that the amount he'd have before (three times a day) seems to pale in comparison. Always with Akechi, too. The older brunette is a demanding force, pressing Akira into a storage room and blowing him real fast if Akira didn't manage to arrive a half an hour early for some pre-practice sex. Futaba calls _him_ a slut for sleeping around, but Akechi is something else altogether; he's like a rabbit in heat, somehow always geared to go for a second round. To say that Akira is _exhausted_ after practice each day despite his fit body is an understatement. Akechi may as well be a succubus slowly sucking away his soul by sucking his dick. He hasn't thought about anyone else since Akechi came into the picture. With _his_ sexual drive, that's saying something.

They also get opportunities to know each other more intimately, over Haru's bentos. Akira told Goro about the band's history, and how it's actually been a cover for their more... _dastardly_ acts until everyone did try playing a song as a band—it's been so fun that they've simply decided to not disband, even accepted new members which was when—which was when Makoto, Futaba and Haru joined in. Akira told Goro about his habit of smoking: ' _picked it up out of stress from Ryuji, who quit pretty easily while I couldn't after two years_.' In turn, Goro told him a few facts about himself. How he doesn't mind food, swallows it before he can taste the flavor. How the song he's played as demonstration is a single precious shard of memory he has of his mother. How he really doesn't want to go home. 

As their relationship deepens, so does Akira's affection for Akechi. Akira may be a little smitten. Just a little. But he is the leader of the Phantoms, the one that everyone was vying for, and there's also that he's already having sex with his crush. Daily. Once they kept up the practice and won nationals, he's sure his emotions will work itself out.

Probably. 

* * *

**4\. CHORUS**

"There you are," Akira greets as Goro slips into Akira's room during intermission surreptitiously, his right hand curled around the music sheet for the second part. He's sprawled on the leather sofa, with his boots (donned with heavy heels, because Joker is simply _like that_ ) placed on the top of the glass table spread apart to show off his bulge. "I've been waiting for you, Akechi."

Goro doesn't move from his place at the door, crossing arms and raising his eyebrows at Joker's frankly horrible posture. "You called for me?" He hums with surprise, pretending he doesn't know why Joker asked for him, like this hasn't happened in the middle of practice at least three times. Although the surprise isn't completely faked—he didn't think that Kurusu had the guts to call for him in the middle of the _actual_ performance, considering this was nationals.

"Yeah. Come here," Akira beckons, and Goro obediently sets himself down next to him. "Sometimes I am completely enamored by how pretty you are," he breathes out, the back of his gloved hand brushing against Goro's cheek, but the hand turns soon turns brutal as it grips onto Goro's ponytail and presses him forward, forcing him to bend and fall against Akira's lap.

Goro eases his head onto Akira's thighs at the wordless command, head turning to look right up into those grey, turbulent eyes. "Did you somehow know I'd be an amazing before I even picked up my trumpet, or did you pick me for my pretty face, leader?" 

Akira yawns. "Yes."

A muscle on Goro's face twitches. "Yes, _what_?"

"Yes, you should suck my dick." 

Goro rolls his eyes at the crude, obscene words even though they send a spark of electricity down his veins. "The intermission only lasts twenty minutes. This is the most important performance we have. You summoned me here to suck your _dick?_ "

Akira only shrugs, eyes gleaming with expectation. He swears that sometimes Akira has his reactions categorized so thoroughly that he can notice the smallest tick he has, immediately notice when he's interested or horny. "I cleared my voice before you came in. I'll be _fine_. You know how good I am." Goro does, sadly—Akira's singing skills are awe-spiring and breathtaking, his voice only needing a light cough to be ready, which was really unfair considering that Akira was a damn _smoker_. "Please, what I need is your mouth around my dick. It's been 3 days."

Goro snorts, tone acerbic. "You fucked me against the bed until you broke a spring in the hotel mattress yesterday."

A long whine. "That was _anal_. It's been three days since a blowjob. Goro, _c'mon_. If you don't deliver, I might come on stage."

Goro undoes the Akira's belts and hums. "Fine, if you tell me what you were thinking when you picked me I'll blow you off."

"You'd really let me embarrass the entirety of the band on stage like that?"

"I'll take my chances."

Akira gives a long-suffering sigh, then looks down at Goro, meeting his eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you. We didn't need to pick anyone—the Phantom's harmony was already too perfect for another member when you auditioned," Akira tells him gently, brushing the hair out of Goro's face. "Sae-san insisted that we recruit a ninth member nonetheless, since we needed to use the full auditorium and the other clubs were angry that an eight member band was using the auditorium daily. I was going to ignore her. Until you walked in, that is. Then I knew you were going to fit right into our harmony. Didn't even need to hear you play—the moment you walked in, all dolled up and holding up your case, I knew you were like us: forced to suppress your rebellious side and forced to play the pretty and innocent boy, wanted to probably kill someone in your life."

He can't help the blush that colors his face at Akira's comment. He scowls to hide it. "Do you say that to all the pretty boys in your harem, or just me?" 

"Don't be like that, _senpai_ ," the sheer serpentine way Akira wraps his character into the word has Goro shivering. Despite the honorary title, it doesn't feel honorary at all; instead it is an mutinous, seductively toxic taunt. "You know there are no boys other than you in my harem." 

Goro rolls Akira's heavy balls in his gloved hands, giving the head another firm lick. Deadpan, he says, "yes. How could I _possibly_ forget. You prefer girls." 

"None of them can suck cock as good as you do, though," Akira grins slyly, looking down with half-lidded lips. Despite being naked bottom down, he easily owns the room merely through his eyes. "Well, none of them would debase themselves to kneeling in front of me during our most important performance just for a taste of my cock."

And that was the truth, wasn't it? When Akira tapped his shoulders as the break time began, eyes silently summoning him to his chambers, Goro knew exactly what would happen once he stepped in. Yet he came instead of cleaning his trumpet for the second act anyways...

There is a big bang against the steel door as a familiar, high pitched voice of Futaba shouts, "intermission over in five, boys!" 

"You better get to work, then, Crow." 

"Yes, _Joker_ ," he croaks, ignoring the way how Akira's stage name doesn't sound casual enough for his comfort—Goro may as well have called Akira _master_. His emotions must be transparent because Akira's smirk only grows larger as he tugs on Akechi's hair to bring him towards his throbbing cock.

In five minutes, the back of Goro's throat is coated thick with viscous semen, and he's swallowing everything down, organizing his hair to seem nothing indecent has happened and Akira hovers over them, running last practices for second part. When they head upwards to stage together, Akira clamors at him with the most mischievous expression: _it's showtime!_

He knows they have the trophy in the bag already.

* * *

**5\. BREAK**

The victory party following their landslide victory is extravagant and lavish, rows and rows of buffet and alcohol stacked upon one another, all hosted by Haru and Okumura Foods. Ryuji takes over the meat corner, Ann takes over the dessert corner, and Yusuke devours everything available in sight. Their mascot raids the sashimi corner. Futaba passionately explains the depths of her composition to a trapped group of guests while Makoto and Haru each take a glass of white wine and enjoy their tranquil candlelight dinner together. Goro attempts to leave at least three times, saying parties and mingling are not his type of scene, but Akira grabs him by the ponytail and tells him that he had been responsible for one ninth of this triumph, so he should stay and really enjoy it alongside the others. If he doesn't, Akira may be really hurt (enough that he can't get his dick for the next few days.) Akechi has gruffly agreed, along with a glare, snatching a cup of rainbow sherbet and reaching for the most secluded corner of the party. 

Meanwhule, Akira does what all band leaders do in the face of victory: he gets shit-faced drunk.

He's not an alcoholic—his personal choice of poison is cigarettes, to his team's dismay—but he thinks in the face of glory, it isn't such a bad thing. He drinks down countless shots of vodka from the guests that offers him a shot in felicitation, his teammates who simply want to get him drunk as fast as they can, and Futaba who's just excited they're of legal age and can offer Akira a drink at all.

It takes him barely ten minutes to reach the state where he sees a single glass and think, _if those two glasses start looking like four glasses, that's when you're drunk_. When he gets drunk, he does what every stupid drunk does: he talks about his _fucking_ crush.

"'s fucking, unfair," Akira groans, "Akeppi's just, so fuc'n pre—" a gut-rending wretch, "pre'ddy."

"I bet he is," Futaba giggles, eye trailing off to Goro in the corner silently sipping on his cocktail, clearly amused by Akira's state of being. "You like him, Akira?"

"Fuckin, havn't slept with anyone else ever since," Akira bites out, sucking on his empty glass. "Ever since he lemme fuck his mouth when we first met," Akira pouts, slamming the cup down and going for the wine bottle. After taking a good gulp, he stares at Futaba with fish-eyed blankness. "'cause I don't want him to think 'm a slut."

"You _are_ a slut, Akira," Futaba sighs, "but so is Akechi, frankly."

"'m... _pathetic_."

"Nobody is arguing with that."

"He thinks I still sleep around, 'taba! Think I've got some harem when all I can think about is him," Akira collapses on the floor, cradling the now half-empty bottle close to his chest. "didn't wanna seem like a loser so I brushed him off, but..." he pushes the bottle away to hug his own legs as he mumbles the words out, "wanna tell him about my feelings, but, dunno. How d'you tell someone how you feel?"

He feels Futaba's consoling hand on his shoulders. "You had a girlfriend once upon a time, Akira."

"First of all, _Ann_ confessed to _me_ back then," Akira explains with strange clarity, "'nd it ended with Ann figuring out that her feelings for me was nothing but compulsory heterosexuality. She is a lesbian."

"Man, I forget how much a trainwreck your romantic life has been," Futaba shakes her head in disbelief, then hurls him upwards. "So you can't tell him how you feel usually? What about _now_?"

"Whadoyoumeanbythat?" Akira slurs, tipping the wine backwards and causing the purple liquid to soak his pristine white dress shirt. "Like _this_?"

"Alcohol apparently gives way to courage," Futaba states, then points at Akira's state. "You are drunk off your ass. I bet you could tell him how you feel now. Say it. I like you, Akechi."

Akira hiccups against Futaba's shoulders. "I like you Akechi likeyoulikeyoulikeyou..."

"You got it!" Futaba gives him two full thumbs-up and pushes him straight into the corner where Akechi is camouflaged against the wall, away from the swarming masses. "You tell him exactly what you said!" 

"Akira?" Goro questions gruffly in confusion when Akira stumbles forwards into his sight, but that confusion morphs into anger and disgust once he takes in the condition Akira is in. "The sheer alcohol reeking off you, chrissakes. How much did you drink?"

"A _lot_ ," Akira emphasizes and collapses into Goro's arms, which causes the brunette has to drop his cup onto the floor. The plastic rolls on the fake grass and Akira moans long in his arms, legs dragging on the floor, looking up into those crimson, piercing eyes. Usually Akechi is more or less as tall as him, someone even shorter depending on the heel that Akira had chosen that day, but looking up like this almost reminds Akira that Goro is older than him. 

"Are you going to say something, or do I have to keep holding you up?" Goro questions with vague annoyance. "Because unless it's joining the other band mates for some practice, I refuse to budge from this place. You may have forced me to attend the party, but you cannot force me to enjoy it." 

"Not here about that," Akira presses a finger right against Goro's nose. "Here for somethn' else."

Arms still holding him up, Akechi asks with vague fear coloring his face, "which is?" 

Akira forgets words, looking up to Goro like this. His chiseled chinline, his flowing long hair, his soft nipples so near Akira's neck. The way the lighting from afar gives him a mythlike, untouchable aura. Akira forgets to breathe, clinging onto him silently, then reaches forward, kissing those pale lips right with his own.

Akechi first makes a confused squeak as their lips collide, but once what they're doing sinks in he begrudgingly opens his mouth, allowing for Akira's tongue to adventure all around his mouth. Their tastes mix, and Akira groans at the taste of raspberry and syrup that implodes his taste senses. 

"Meanwhile, you taste like vodka and wine," Akechi grumbles, wiping his lips when they depart. 

Akira blinks, realizing he said that out loud. "Like you. Like you a lot. Goro. Will y'go out with me? Be official boyfriends and boyfriends?"

"You're asking me that _now_?" Goro glares at him in confusion, then sighs. "Of course you're asking me that now."

Akira doesn't let the lack of answer deter him, still mumbling into Goro's shoulder. "Likeyoualot."

Goro looks away pointedly, line of sight focusing on some abandoned can of sprite on the floor, anywhere that is not Akira's warm breath and confessions against his shoulder. "You won't remember my answer next morning, anyways."

The rejection doesn't quite sink into Akira with how he is, and he only pouts. Akira blinks up to him with bunny eye innocence. " _Like_ you. D'you?" 

Then, Akechi flinches, finally looks down after stony silence. "O-Of course I like you too, dumbass," Goro hisses out quietly, "your dick I fell in love with when I first saw it out of your pants, but I've gotten it pretty bad to the idiot it's attached to over time. Can we do this somewhere else?"

"Sex?" Akira looks up, eyes shining with so much hope that Goro finds himself looking away with a heavy blush coloring his face. 

"There will definitely be some sex if I get what I want, but we're creating a scene," Goro lowly breathes out, eyes scanning the crowd that now is fixated on what they're doing. "We have to reach your room, Akira."

"Dn'twannamove."

Goro hisses dangerously as he pulls Akira away towards to where the hotel room is. "Don't be so fucking stubborn now, idiot, we can't keep doing this here, we have to _move_ —"

"No, Goro, _feel sick_ —"

Then Akira throws up in front of him, making a mess all over the floor and Goro's shoes.

"For fuck's sake," Akechi moans.

* * *

**6\. OUTRO**

When Goro wakes up, the first thought he has is that his ass is sore.

The second is the reaction to yesterday: _oh shit_.

The two of them ended sleeping over at Akira's quarters after the clumsy sex (where Akira kept being stupid that Akechi just had to undo the fumbles of his tie and tie Akira's two arms together to ride him forcefully) Goro too exhausted to move out to his own room like he does usually. There was also the fact the entire time Akira had been moaning out, _I want you, I love you, Goro, Goro_...

A sharp thorn presses into his heart, and he grimaces. Akira won't be able to remember last night considering just how smashed he had been. He should leave before Akira wakes up, and tells him that everything he said yesterday had been alcohol-driven empty words. 

Yet, when he looks down at Akira's pale, sleeping face, he's fixated onto the spot. Akira, asleep so peacefully, has none of the menacing charisma that defines the main vocal of the Phantoms. He just looks like every other exhausted junior after their frat party, smashed and fucked out of their soul. 

Akira turns in the blankets, as if he can feel the attention Goro is sparing him. Soon, there is a long sound that is between a moan and a groan. "God, _fuck_ ," Akira whimpers as he comes to consciousness, shoving his head into the closest window. He then tries opening his eyes. The first attempt turns out to be a failure, and he moans long and miserable.

"Fine morning, all-mighty leader," Goro drawls, passing over the hangover drink that Haru placed in his pocket the night before with a, _he'll need that next morning_. "How much of yesterday do you remember?"

"Not much, frankly. I was really drunk. Really, really drunk. I don't think I've been drunk that much in my life before. My memory's a mess," Akira shakes his head and attempts to restore his sight again, and this time it's more successful. He snatches the bottle from Goro's grasps and downs the entire content in the matter of seconds.

As Akira lets the medicine do its work, Goro comments casually, "maybe it's a good idea you don't remember."

When Akira opens his eyes, he does look a little less paler and more his usual confident self. Akira ogles over his naked upper body, eyes grazing over the nipples so intently that it Goro can almost feel the phantom caress on his nubs. "Did we have sex? You're half naked..."

Sure, he can let Akira have this turn and they can get straight to sex, but there aren't many times when he can have Joker so flustered. So instead he tells the truth: "You threw up on me two times. Once, over my shoes and once all over my body."

Akira hiccups in horror. "Oh god, I'm so sorry!"

Goro smirks. "Then I took a shower, then we had sex."

"Nic—you had sex with me when I threw up twice on you?"

"You were glad I was in the mood. I'm surprised you could even get the dick up with how plastered you were."

Mistake forgotten, Akira's body language loosens as he goes back to dragging his eyes down Goro's body. "Aww, I'm always in the mood when your cute ass and mouth are involved. Anyways, why were you in the mood? You said I threw up on you twice. Usually you'd dump me by the doorsteps and leave."

"If you can't remember, it's not my place to say..." Akechi awkwardly looks away, hands fumbling on the gloves he's just put on. He knew that Akira wouldn't remember, but the confirmation still hurts.

"Did I do something even more embarrassin—" The memories come crashing back in, from the way Akira's eyes go wide as saucer. The way he's stumbled over from the floor half wet from the wine and dirtied up by the floor's dust, he's just reached over and kissed Goro firmly on the lips, confessed about how there's just nobody else but him, it's always been him ever since he met him, half singing and half begging whine. "Oh my god. Oh my _fucking_ god."

"Yes," Akechi deadpans, hugging the blankets. Looking downcast and utterly dejected. "I understand if it was a drunken confession and nothing but, I knew that it all too good to be true—"

"What?" Akira shouts. " _What?_ That was the worst confession I could have possibly given you. I kissed you in front of all those people and tried to grope you through the clothes. Then threw up on you. _Twice_. If I told you about my feelings it was going to be in a proper romantic place, and all that, not that mess I've made..." Akira rubs his head in frustration. "I've fucked everything up."

"You've certainly fucked me up, my ass still hurts," Akechi grumbles, then curls forward to hold his hands. "I understand that it wasn't the best confession I could have gotten, but your feelings for me, they're true?"

Akira blinks. "Yeah. Of course it is."

"Then that's enough," Goro exclaims, reaching forward to hold his hands. "That's enough for me."

"But... I'm hoping, if you were willing to have sex with a disgustingly drunk Akira, you'd be willing to have sex with a sober, albeit slightly hungover, Akira?" He asks, eyes blinking as his hands reach for Goro's legs under the blanket.

At that, Akechi chokes so hard that he ends up coughing. " _Jesus_. How do you even have the energy after the sex yesterday?"

"Hey, I don't even have memory of that ever happening," Akira sulks, hands now having found Goro's thighs and caressing sensually in the way that makes Goro's cock jerk to life. When Goro bites his lips to suppress a shiver, Akira smirks, "and I think you're not happy enough with what you've got yesterday."

"S-Shut up," Goro bites out, internally cursing himself for being so reactive to Akira's touch. He doesn't fight back as Akira flips him over so his ass is out for him to play with and his face is against the pillows despite the grumbling. "You're a slut, Kurusu Akira."

Akira doesn't argue back, only hums as he slips in a finger to Goro's loose hole thanks to the prior day's fucking. "I guess I am, but if I'm a slut, so are you. You're tightening all around my finger even though you've said I've fucked you loose last night. And the day before that." 

When Akira's fingers—when did it become fingers? it was one a few moments ago—prod against that spot that makes Goro lose coherency and see stars with unerring accuracy, any scathing remark ready to be bitten out immediately dies off in his throat. He moans long and desperate, spreading his legs apart as far as they would go so those nimble fingers can dip as deep as they want, explore inside his ass. 

Still, he can't _not_ bite back. That is simply not how their relationship works. "Please. You could barely get it up last night. I had to suck your cock for good twenty minutes for it to reach full mast, then had to do all the work after."

Goro expects a harsh counter; something along the lines of _you were so desperate for my cock you worked me up when I was half fainted?_ or something like that. Instead, Akira completely surprises him by kissing his shoulder blades and reverently whispering, "then let me make it up to you, Akechi. _Goro_."

Goro's cock instantly turns hard. 

Not that Goro doesn't enjoy the degradation—that silky perfect singing voice reduced to growling filth into his ears is enough to help him come untouched in some days—but this feels even more surreal and taboo than the day one deep-throating. Stealing the leader of The Phantom's heart: like capturing an eternally free eagle behind steel bars. Akira was simply too perfect to belong to a single man, yet he's chosen to chain himself down to _Goro_...

"God, I don't fucking need this much prep, just fuck me already," Goro growls when Akira keeps stretching his fingers apart to pull against Goro's rim. Soon, when he hears the familiar rip of a condom wrapper pulled open, he swallows his spit and shakes his head, "n-no, I don't need that either." 

As the words sink in, Akira goes dead silent for a few moments. Even though with oral he's willingly sucked Akira off without anything between them—the salty tang of precome and the come forced down his throat as Akira came was just too much of what got Goro going that he couldn't simply do without them—when it came to anal, Goro insisted that they fuck with a condom on at all times. For clean up, on superficial terms, yet on a deeper level, it was because that was the one thing he didn't want give up to a random, convenient fuck. 

Akira isn't a random fuck anymore. 

In a low, dangerous, predatory voice, Akira growls, "did I fuck you without a condom yesterday?" 

It's a tone that would not tolerate disrespect, so Goro shakes his head furiously, recalling back. "Y-You were way too drunk, and I was too tired with the performance and all. Didn't want to bother with the clean-up because of that, so I slipped one on before riding you." 

Akira awards him by fucking into him—a single thrust that buries Akira's gigantic member all the way to the hilt within Goro. "Good boy. I want to remember when I creampie you for the first time." 

Akira's a year younger than him, so Akira calling him a good boy shouldn't do anything to him but elicit a scoff from him. Yet Goro gives a bodily shudder and moans, and from the way Akira mirrors his moans he knows his ass is tightening around him the way he knows Akira likes. The way it does when Akira does something Goro likes.

Knowingly, Akira gives his flank a rub, and Goro doesn't even need to look at the man to see the infuriating smirk that would be surefire etched into his face. Every time Akira thrusts Goro's cock rubs against the soft fabric, and the friction added with the words the younger growls against his ear, Akira only has to thrust twice for Goro to make a mess all over the crispy sheets, to Goro's shame and to Akira's amusement. Akira slows down when he hears Goro give a choked moan, the touch soothing yet somehow possessive.

"Well, _that's_ a record," Akira hums, reaching for Goro's oversensitive cock to play with the heated flesh. When Goro squirms on the spot to avoid the hand, he ends up moving the hard cock in his ass, and he moans as it moves the head right onto Goro's prostate. Akira feels so impossibly large inside of Goro right now, and despite the sensitivity, he wants more.

He wants Akira to come in him. He wants Akira to _seed_ him. "Keep going," he hisses, pressing his ass back against Akira as far as it would go, tone teetering between a beg and a demand.

Thankfully Akira doesn't push until it becomes a beg, biting his earlobes and whispering, "if that's all you want." To his word, he pulls himself backwards, hands gripping onto Goro's hips for leverage.

Yet the thrusts that come from Akira is calculated and soft for Goro's liking. Despite his efforts to hurry the rhythm or take the cock deeper, Akira's firm grasp on his ass doesn't permit anything more. Soon, he's squirming again, but for a completely different reason from before.

"Harder," it comes as a whine. "Akira, harder."

"You've just came," Akira breathes hoarsely, "you're still sensitive—"

"I don't _care_ ," this time it's a bite. "Fuck me already. Fuck me like you're using me, like I'm some rag you're using to get off—"

" _Fuck_ ," Akira growls, and his demeanor instantly changes as he presses as deep as he can go, grazing right against Goro's prostate, finally. His soft cock jumps, letting out a spurt of precome, but it's all it does.

Goro can't get hard immediately, not right after orgasm, not even with his sex drive so all he can do is bite the sheets and hopes it drowns out most of his embarrassing noises. Not that Akira is in the condition to listen to his sounds right now—from the animalistic groans and whines he makes as he thrusts into Goro's body frantically, he's more gone than Goro himself is. It doesn't take Goro to reach that level of brainlessness with Akira fucking him with everything he's got, every thrust a punch against his spot, all other senses reduced to a fuzz except for the feeling of Akira's cock abusing his insides.

"Goro, I'm gonna, I'm gonna—" Akira chokes as he finally comes, painting Goro's insides with hot sticky come. Goro merely stays still, trembling, whimpering against the sheets as Akira pumps the last of his ejaculate into Goro. Collapses right into Goro's back, nuzzling into his neck. Goro's limbs have gone completely soft to fight against the heavy weight against his own pliant body.

They lie there together just until the soft glow dissipates and the disgust of cooling come sticking to skin starts to take over. "Damn it," Goro grouses as he tries to drag some of the come out of his ass, "this is why I don't like fucking without a condom. Takes too long to clean up."

"Mm," Akira mewls like a content cat, "is that so."

"Yeah," Goro tosses him a dubious look. He doesn't like that tone coming from Akira, the one he's dubbed the 'idea tone'. "What are you doin—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence because Akira's dipping his head back to lick down his flesh, nipping and biting until he reaches Goro's hole. Then, without much hesitation, he probes past the rim with his tongue, wiggling and sucking the come out. He shouldn't be getting off to this—it's so fucking filthy—but the feeling of the soft tongue caressing him from the inside and is what makes his cock twitch into full hardness.

Akira grabs his hard cock, licking away the drops inside of him as he jerks Goro off with leisurely strokes, until Goro is coming again and tightening around Akira's tongue. Akira only hums and pops himself off.

The smile returned his way along with the wink has him moaning before he hears the question. "So, round two after a shower?"

"Fuck off, Kurusu, I just came twice," Goro grunts, but picks up his phone to throw a text to the other members of the Phantom not to contact the two of them as the two of them slides into the shower. After a victory like that, they deserve the day off.

**FIN.**

**Author's Note:**

> the series is... based on mementos mission art that gives me brainworms YES it's because i want to write porn based on the fishing pic 
> 
> twit: @tsunbrownie  
> hornytwit (18+): @blackmaskfucker


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